Cake and Pie
by Kanoi-chan
Summary: Dean Winchester was perfectly content to lead a happy, simple life with his wife Lisa and his step-son Ben, but when Castiel and Meg Novak move in next door that all goes to hell. Destiel with sides of Megstiel and Dean/Lisa
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, if I did, Destiel would have admitted their love already.

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Dean slid his hand into Cas's, their mismatched wedding bands at odds with each other as Dean thrust into the body below him. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he took shuddering breaths that hardly seemed to fill his lungs. The gorgeous man below him arched with a guttural moan of pleasure as he climaxed.

"Shit, Cas!" he rasped out, burying his face into the crook of his partner's neck as his own orgasm ripped through him.

As Dean laid there, catching his breath, Castiel began to lazily trace out random shapes on Dean's back.

"Should do this more often," Dean murmured, pressing a kiss into the juncture of Castiel's neck and shoulder.

He felt Cas nod, and his chest constricted.

Finally pulling out and pushing himself up on shaky arms, Dean placed a chaste kiss to Castiel's lips. "We should get cleaned up."

"Of course, Dean," Castiel replied, letting Dean help him up and lead him to the shower.

It was a quick shower, the two men laser-focused on getting clean. They only had so long before Lisa and Ben got home, after all.

It had all started as an accident. Castiel and Meg Novak had moved into the house next door a little over a year ago, and for the first few months, that's all they had been- neighbors.

But then one day, Dean had come in from work to find Meg sitting at his kitchen table with his wife, the two women gossiping away. As much as the neighbor-lady left a bad taste in his mouth, Dean ignored them, figuring it really didn't concern him. Until, of course, later that night when Lisa had suggested he should try to make nice with Meg's husband ("We could have couple friends, Dean." "We have 'couple friends,' Lisa." "Dean, your brother and Jess don't count." "How come?" "Because they live half-way across the country!") And so the Novaks were over at their house that Saturday for dinner.

Dean had to admit that Cas was a lot cooler than he initially thought he'd be, despite the other man's scruffy tax accountant appearance. Sure, the dude was incredibly awkward, and most of Dean's references seemed to go way over his head, but he had a dry sense of humor that Dean could appreciate. After that, Dean and Castiel became quick friends. Dean pointedly tried to ignore Lisa's I-told-you-so grins and Meg's jibes that it was only because no one else was dumb enough to be friends with either of them (seriously, what did Cas see in that bitch?).

Strangely, despite Lisa's initial excitement over having "couple friends", they really didn't all go out together all that much. Instead, Lisa and Meg would have their "girls' days", which would leave Cas and Dean (and occasionally Ben, when he didn't have baseball or wasn't at a friend's house) to hang out and do their own thing.

It had all gone to hell about six months after the Novaks moved in.

Lisa and Meg had run off to some spa for the weekend, and Ben was spending the weekend at a friend's, which left Cas and Dean to their own devices. On Saturday, Dean invited Cas over to watch the game. They'd both ended up drinking way too much. The details to what set it off were fuzzy, but suddenly, Dean found himself kissing Cas. It escalated quickly, nothing romantic about it. It was primal and sloppy, and while they didn't end up having sex that night, it was close enough to be their undoing.

They woke up the next morning, half-naked messes, in Dean and Lisa's bed. Cas had that deer-in-headlights look, spitting out some utter bullshit about needing to get home, righting his clothes, and bolting out of the house.

Dean spent the whole day in misery. He'd fucked up, and now his best friend was avoiding him. The meticulous bastard hadn't even left anything behind in his haste to leave, so it wasn't like Dean could go over there under false pretenses to talk to him.

When Lisa got home that night and asked how his weekend had been, he felt like he was going to throw up as he told her it had been pretty uneventful. He spent the next week being extra sweet to her, trying to assuage his guilt (after all, he did love his wife; he really did). It just ended in Lisa thinking he was sick. It was another week before Lisa caught him off-guard in the kitchen.

He was at the table going over some bills, and she was at the sink, rinsing off dishes, when suddenly she turned off the water and pinned him down with a no-nonsense look.

"Did you and your boyfriend get in a fight or something?"

His stomach dropped at the term, and he looked at her in a panic, sputtering out, "What?"

Lisa quirked an eyebrow. "You okay there?"

Seeing that she looked more concerned than anything, he calmed down. "Yeah, sorry, what were you saying?"

Lisa eyed him skeptically for a moment more before continuing, "You've been acting weird ever since I got back from that spa weekend, and Meg said Castiel's been moping around ever since then too. Did you guys get into a fight?"

"Something like that," he muttered.

"Dean Winchester!" He winced at her angry yell. "You better go fix whatever you did."

Dean shot his wife a betrayed look. "Why do you assume it's my fault?"

Lisa stared hard at him with her arms crossed. "Because I know you."

"Whatever," he grumbled, shifting his attention back to the bills in front of him.

Lisa sighed, moving to sit in the chair next to him. Placing her hand over his, she said more gently, "He's a good friend to you. I just don't want to see you lose that."

Dean stared at her defiantly for a moment before wilting under the sincerity of her gaze. "Fine. I'll talk to him."

Lisa smiled. "Thank you."

That night after dinner, Lisa sent Dean next door and invited Meg over so the two men could speak privately ("I know how you get about 'chick flick moments.")

Dean felt sick to his stomach as Meg let him in as she left. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the sitting room to find Cas sitting pensively on the couch.

"Hey, man," Dean greeted with a strained smile.

Cas looked up at him, and Dean's stomach about jumped out through his throat when those blue eyes met his. "Hello, Dean."

That voice did things to him that he wished it didn't, bringing back memories of Cas groaning his name. Dean swallowed thickly, trying to push those thoughts away.

"So the women folk want us to kiss and make up, huh?" Dean tried to joke, and immediately wanted to kick himself for the wording.

Cas looked away from him, looking more than a little queasy himself. They remained like that, in awkward silence, listening to the clock in the hall tick off the seconds, until Dean thought he would scream.

Dean sank down on the other side of the couch, face buried in his hands. "Damn it, Cas. What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

Castiel stared dispassionately at the wall in front of him. "Perhaps Meg and I should leave."

Dean's head snapped up to stare at Cas with wide eyes.

"Like hell!" he shouted.

Cas stared at him in confusion. "Why are you so angry? I thought this was the most reasonable course of action."

And Dean couldn't come up with an answer. Why was he so angry? He couldn't remember feeling this lost in his whole life. All he knew was that, crazy as it was, he couldn't picture his life without Cas in it now that he knew the man. And so, staring into Cas's confused eyes, Dean did that only thing he could think to do- he kissed him. And he never looked back.

Sure, it was probably going to come back to bite them in the ass one day (they couldn't keep up the secrets forever), but until the day that happened, Dean intended to make the most of every moment they had.

Selfish though it was, he couldn't help wanting to be able to have his cake and eat it too.

* * *

There might, eventually, be more to this verse in the future, but for right now, this is it. I feel like I want to continue it, but I have no concrete ideas yet, so I make no promises.

Also, huge thank you to my beta pharocomics! She helped me significantly clean this up into something I'm a little less scared to post lol.


	2. Chapter 2

This was one of those rare double date nights between the Novaks and Winchesters, and honestly? It catered more to Lisa and Castiel's tastes than anyone else's. They'd gone to some play that Cas and Lisa couldn't stop gushing about, but that Dean had honestly almost fallen asleep through. Now, they were at some ritzy restaurant that Lisa had mentioned wanting to go to, and when Cas had given it rave reviews, that deal was sealed. The evening was all a bit high brow for Dean, though Meg hadn't seemed too thrilled about it either. It should have given him a like-minded companion, but he couldn't stop glaring at her long enough to actually start up a conversation with her.

He hated her. He hated her face. He hated her nasty attitude. He hated her recently-dyed blonde hair that looked absolutely awful. He hated her wedding ring that matched Cas's. He was very sure he just hated everything about her, and it was seriously ruining his night.

He winced as Lisa, yet again, discreetly elbowed him under the table. She was mad at him for his attitude, and he was sure he was going to hear about it when they got home tonight. He was sure he was probably going to be sleeping on the couch for it, too.

Cas was upset with him as well, if the brief, betrayed glances he kept shooting at him were anything to go by.

Throwing his napkin on the table, Dean gruffly announced, "I have to take a leak," before standing and walking towards the bathroom.

"Don't take too long jerking out that frustration," Meg's smooth voice called after him, and he'd never wanted to punch a woman more in his life.

Dean turned the water off, staring at his wet face in the mirror. The bathroom was blessedly empty, which considering Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to be sick or cry, he couldn't have been more thankful for the solitude.

Cas had given him the news a week ago- he and Meg were trying for a baby. It had felt like a punch in the gut to Dean. He couldn't (or didn't want to) explain it. He had no reason to be this upset over it. It wasn't like he had some claim over Cas. Meg was the guy's wife, after all (with her stupid matching wedding ring). Besides, Dean was married himself, had a stepson even. It shouldn't make a damn bit of difference to him if Cas and Meg wanted to have a baby.

But it did.

This thing between him and Cas just kept going, and, if Dean was honest with himself, it was escalating.

He slammed his hands onto the sink counter, feeling completely lost and broken. "Damn it!"

When he heard the door open, he quickly looked up, watching in the mirror as Cas walked in. Dean tensed at the pitying look the other man gave him.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Castiel asked, and he didn't sound angry in the least. No, instead, the bastard sounded so damn patient, and it was setting Dean even more on edge. Was he seriously the only one having a hard time with this fucked up situation they'd gotten themselves into?

Dean let out a hollow laugh, eyes meeting concerned blue in the mirror's reflection.

"What the fuck are we doing, Cas?" he asked, voice almost cracking.

Cas cocked his head to the side, squinting at Dean in confusion. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean shouted, whipping around to face him. "Us! This!" He gestured between the two of them. "What are we doing?"

"You're upset."

"Damn straight, I'm upset!"

"Why?"

Dean stopped at that, looking like a deer caught in headlights, because wasn't that the million dollar question?

The anger melted off his face, replaced by pure weariness, and he pressed a hand to his eyes. "I don't know, Cas. I don't fucking know."

Castiel gently removed the hand from Dean's eyes, and when he still refused to meet his eyes, Cas gently commanded, "Look at me, Dean."

Dean reluctantly looked up, heart skipping a beat at the absolutely beautiful, loving smile on Castiel's face. He swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

Cas placed his hands on either side of Dean's face, thumbs softly caressing his cheek bones.

"I'm not sure what any of this means, either, but I know I don't want to lose it." With that, Cas leaned up and placed a soft kiss on Dean's lips.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, indulging in the stolen moment, enjoying the feel of the smaller man wrapped close to him.

When Cas pulled away, he smiled blissfully at Dean, and Dean couldn't help but meet it with one of his own. And that was when he knew he was royally screwed. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he had fallen for Cas, and, boy, had he fallen hard.

Cas slowly untangled himself from Dean's arms, smile turning ever-so-slightly cheeky.

"We should get back to the table before Meg convinces Lisa that we are both masturbating," he joked.

Dean blanched immediately, causing Cas to laugh (and damn, if the sound didn't send a warm feeling all the way down to Dean's toes).

"Don't worry," Cas reassured him, "Lisa knew something was bothering you. That's why she asked me to come talk to you."

And while Dean knew it should bother him, make him feel guilty that his wife had unwittingly sent his boyfriend (were they boyfriends?) after him, he honestly just felt lucky that he had two people that cared about him so much.

Yes, he was a selfish bastard, and he knew it.

* * *

Thank you to PharoComics for betaing!

This is a little shorter than I'd like, but hopefully the next part will be longer. This plot has run away with me, and I'm super excited to keep working on it :D

Also, was not my intent to put this out on croatoan day, just kind of how it worked out. I should hopefully have a real offering for croatoan day tomorrow or the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sammy!" Dean greeted happily, throwing his arms around his brother who was standing in the doorway.

He gave a couple of heavy pats to Sam's back before pulling away and turning his attention to his brother's very pregnant wife.

"Hey, beautiful! You still tugging this bozo around?" he joked, wrapping her up in a warm hug. Jess rolled her eyes, but smiled and hugged back.

"Haha, Dean, very funny," Sam responded in a voice that meant he found it nothing of the sort. It was even accompanied by Bitch Face No. 5. "You mind letting us in? It's boiling out here."

And oh how right Sam was, the summer sun making it almost unbearable.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Dean stepped aside, letting the couple in. "Just leave your bags here and I'll take them up in a bit."

"So where are Lisa and Ben?" Jess asked, looking around the small foyer.

"Should be on their way. Lisa had to go get Ben from baseball practice."

Sam quirked a happy, little smile. "Baseball, huh?"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. Kid's always into something."

"You proud?"

"Damn straight!" Dean clapped a hand onto Sam's shoulder, grinning widely.

Lisa and Ben arrived home about 20 minutes later, Dean already starting to get dinner ready. They spent the evening all catching up, Lisa discussing pregnancy and children with Jessica, while Dean and Sam played video games with Ben.

The next couple of days passed without much event. Dean would come home early to spend time with his brother and sister-in-law, and in the evenings all five of them would share dinner together. It was the most family Dean had had under one roof in several years, and it should have left him wanting for nothing. Instead, there was a giant Cas-shaped hole in him that he had to smile around. It wasn't as though they hadn't gone longer without seeing each other, but they'd barely spoken in the days since Sam and Jess got in, and more than that, it was the feeling of having so many people he loved in one place. It was glaringly obvious that he was missing someone important, and if he hadn't been clued in before that he was head over heels for the guy, he certainly was now. It was terrifying, but with his brother and sister-in-law around twenty-four-seven, he had no time to brood on it.

He felt certain he was going to go crazy, but thankfully his wife was a genius (and how fucked up was that thought in context?). She had come up with the idea of a barbeque on Saturday and inviting Meg and Castiel over ("After all, they may as well be family, right?" And she couldn't know how right she was). When Cas walked into the backyard that afternoon, Dean felt all the tension he had been carrying around melt away. It didn't even matter that his arm was around Meg. It only mattered that he got to see and speak to his best friend again.

Overall, it was a nice day- Jess didn't seem too impressed by Meg (of course, she wasn't going to say anything to Lisa, but Dean could see it in the way she smiled a little too uncomfortably and the distance she kept, and Dean was not above reveling in small victories), and Sam and Cas were getting along great. They bonded over books and ivy league schools and other sophisticated shit that Dean couldn't even begin to join in on, and it eventually started to wear on him. Cas was brilliant, and while he'd known it, he'd certainly never been able to hold a conversation about Nietzsche verses Sartre (what did that even **mean**?). He never would be able to engage Cas in that way, and the thought caused his mood to sour. But he plastered on a smile and muscled through the gathering because being jealous of Meg was fucked up enough, but being jealous of his brother was a whole new level of messed up.

From the looks Sam kept shooting him, he could tell his brother didn't believe for five seconds that he was just all hunky-dory.

With the sun setting, everyone started to wind down, retreating to the living room to keep talking. Dean volunteered to stay outside and clean up ("Hey, someone's gotta do it, and who wants to clean on a Sunday?"). He felt he was rather successfully avoiding everyone until Sam walked out.

"Hey man, what do you say we head out to a bar, shoot some pool?" Sam was trying to play it casual, but Dean wasn't an idiot, even if he wasn't all book smart like Sam and Cas.

He chuckled, tried to make it light and airy, which was stupid because when was Dean Winchester ever light and airy? "What? Just leave the girls? Somehow I doubt they'd be too happy about that."

"Actually, they're the ones saying we should go. Apparently we're 'cramping their style'?" Dean winced. God damn Lisa and Meg and all their autonomy.  
He tried a different tactic. "What about Jess? You really gonna leave her with Meg in there?"

"Yeah, well... Lisa and her are insisting. Besides, Jess can take care of herself. And, really, how bad can Meg honestly be? Cas married her, right?" Seriously? Was Dean the only person who hated the harpy? And what business did Sam have calling him "Cas?" That was Dean's name for him, Lisa barely ever doing it, and Meg just called him Clarence (which was straight-up weird).

Dean threw the rag down on the grill, knowing he'd lost, and getting more and more pissed off about it. "Yeah, fine, we can go. Just let me go change."

So Dean changed into clothes that didn't smell quite so much like a fire pit, kissed his wife goodbye, and then they were off to a bar a couple streets over from the garage he worked at.

It should have been a good night out- beer, his brother, and his best friend. Instead, it was painfully awkward, pretty much all at Dean's fault. He sat in the corner of the booth, all surly and picking at the label of his beer bottle while Sam and Cas exchanged concerned glances.

As the night wore on, it only got more awkward. Sam and Castiel tried to salvage it, and they wound up playing pool. Dean was invited, but he refused, preferring to nurse yet another drink on his own. It earned him a bitch face from Sam and an overly-concerned look from Cas (and that look almost had him feeling bad enough to apologize right then and there).

It was about halfway through the pool game that Dean decided it'd be best if he excused himself before he did something embarrassing (like yell at his brother for touching **_his_** boyfriend, because that would go over so well on all sides). He caught Sam's eye from across the bar and motioned to the door, mouthing _Be right back_. When Sam's response was a suspicious look, Dean improvised, holding up his phone and mouthing _Gotta make a call_. Sam didn't look fully convinced, but it was enough to earn Dean a nod before Sam turned back to his game.

Dean hadn't realized just how much he'd been drinking until he stood up and discovered that his whole world was off kilter (it was no wonder Sam and Cas had looked so concerned and uncomfortable). Still, he pressed on, exiting the bar and sighing in relief to be out in the fresh air. Sure, it was hot and muggy outside, but he felt far less stifled than he had in the bar, than he had all night, if he was honest with himself. He made his way around the corner of the bar, away from the prying eyes of the people milling about, and leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, letting his eyes slide shut. He let his mind wander, far from the noises of downtown, and he started to become more and more aware of the warm buzz thrumming through his body. He was way beyond tipsy, tottering close to the land of honest-to-god drunk (more like he was already one foot in). Sam would probably have to drive them home. Or Cas. And that was an image that went straight to his dick- Cas behind the wheel of the impala, intense blue eyes focused on the road ahead. God, what Dean wouldn't do to have that intensity focused on him at all times. Or even to have those baby blues rolled to the back of Cas's head in pleasure.

He hadn't even realized he was palming his growing erection through his jeans until Cas's call of "Dean?" snapped him out of his daydream. Dean slid his eyes open lazily, watching as Cas came around the corner into the alley.

Lips pulling up into a lascivious smirk, Dean responded, "Over here, Cas."

Said man's eyes widened minutely before he wandered over, asking, "Are you alright?"

"Sammy send you?" Dean drawled.

Castiel furrowed his brow. "No. I was concerned." His attention was briefly grabbed by Dean running the back of his hand down Cas's arm before he looked back up at Dean, expression utter consternation. "What are you doing?"

Dean's smirk widened as he ran his hand back up Cas's arm, evoking a shiver from the smaller man. "Want to give you road head," he responded glibly before pulling Cas in for a kiss.

Castiel floundered, hands scrabbling against Dean's arms, but not quite managing to dislodge the larger man. However, Dean pulled back at Cas's wordless protests, staring down at him in concern (and was that a hint of rejection that Cas saw?). "What's wrong, Baby?" he asked, like he honestly had no clue just what the problem was, and it was enough to through Cas off his game enough that he couldn't even bristle up in proper agitation.

"You're drunk, Dean," he reasoned instead.

The other man just huffed out a laugh, looking more than a little amused. "Well, yeah. What? You worried I'm gonna regret it in the morning or something? Thought we'd be past all that by now." And then he was amorously nuzzling his nose into the space where Castiel's throat and jaw met.

"We- Anyone could see us, Dean," he argued, but it lacked any real bite as Cas was slowly melting into Dean's affections.

"Let them," Dean purred, pulling back up to his full height and fisting a hand in Castiel's hair, gently guiding the shorter man's face up to look him in the eyes. "Proud to show you off."

Cas felt lightheaded, as if he was the drunk one, as Dean once again pulled him into a kiss. He didn't fight it this time, instead reaching up to wrap his arms around Dean's neck in reciprocation. It seemed to be an adequate green light because next thing he knew, Dean was slamming him against the brick wall, knocking the breath from Cas's lungs, and deepening the kiss. It was all Cas could do just to keep up, Dean unleashing all of his stress and frustrations of the last week into that kiss. It seemed Cas was mostly just along for the ride, and that shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did.

And then Dean was desperately grinding his hips against Cas's, grunting and whining in frustration when it wasn't enough. Cas couldn't help smiling into the kiss, running his hands down the other man's body to rest on Dean's hips and helping to steady and guide the thrusts, and then he was moaning into the kiss too.

"Shit, Cas. Need you. Needed you all week. Missed you." Dean was babbling between kisses, Cas responding with his own litany of "I know" and "I've got you" and "Missed you, too."

With a well placed nip to Dean's bottom lip, Cas gained the upper hand in the exchange, slowing the kiss down to something more languid and dirty as he slid a hand between them to pull down Dean's zipper. Dean let out a wanton moan as Cas freed his dick from the confines of his jeans and boxers, giving a firm tug.

"Why don't you show me how much you missed me?" Cas purred, looking up at Dean through his eyelashes, a dirty little smirk playing on his red, spit-slicked lips.

Dean smirked back. "If that's how you want it, who am I to deny you?" And then he reached down and unzipped Castiel's pants. Cas's eyes rolled back and his head lolled back against the wall when Dean wrapped his fingers around his leaking member, giving him a few quick but skillful strokes. He let out a whine when Dean removed his hand, but then Dean was settling his hands under Cas's rear, giving a firm tap to his rump as he commanded, "Up."

Cas immediately obeyed, jumping and wrapping his legs around Dean's waist, the larger man supporting him against the wall.

Dean leaned in for another mind-meltingly good kiss, tongue tangling with Cas's as he pressed them closer together against the wall, the two of them completely blending into the shadows. When he finally pulled back, Cas was flushed and short of breath.

"Need your hand, Baby," Dean reminded softly, nosing at the hair behind Cas's ear, placing a small kiss to the skin there.

Castiel held his hand up for Dean, moaning as Dean sucked in each digit, one at a time, laving at the skin thoroughly. He watched, enraptured, as Dean traced meaningless trails with his tongue along the palm of his hand. With one final nibble to the pad of Castiel's thumb, he pulled away, watching Cas with dark eyes. "You ready?"

Castiel nodded dumbly, reaching down to wrap his hand as best he could around both his and Dean's cocks. And then Dean slowly started rocking into him as Cas fisted them up and down to the rhythm Dean set, letting out little mewls and gasps of pleasure as Dean lick-bit-kissed every inch of Cas he could reach.

Dean was speeding up, and Cas knew that neither of them would last long like this, breath stuttering out of both of them like the were drowning. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. And when Dean brushed his lips against his ear to whisper, "Wish I was fucking you against this wall instead," Cas broke, crying out sharply as he came violently, shaking in Dean's arms.

Dean quickly covered Cas's mouth with his own in a heady, open-mouthed kiss, trying to silence him, but with just a few more strokes, Dean was coming himself, biting into Cas's lip hard enough to taste the metallic tang of Cas's blood on his tongue in an attempt to silence his own noises .

They were standing in the alleyway, clinging to each other desperately, trying to force air back into their lungs, still lost in the aftermath of their orgasms, when they heard Sam's enraged, "What the fuck!?"

* * *

Thank you to my wonderful beta, PharoComics, for cleaning this up! She is a glorious individual, and I couldn't do it without her!


	4. Chapter 4

The drive home is unbearable- Sam behind the wheel, staring straight ahead out at the road, silent and seething; Dean in the passenger's seat, light-headed feeling due to booze and a mind-blowing orgasm against a brick wall battling against rising panic at being caught in the act; and Castiel in the backseat, silent and stone-faced, eyes downcast, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. It isn't a long drive from the bar back to Dean's house, twenty minutes tops, but this drive surpasses all the cross-country road trips with his seething father and teenage-angst ridden little brother of his childhood in its awkward badness. The silence is oppressive, the radio not even turned on, as if Sam wants them to stew in the thoughts of their debauchery.

_Little late on that one_, Dean thinks. _Months late, really._ Dean has already had his big gay panic (which was much more a little gay panic because who could get worked up over the inability to say no to those gorgeous blue eyes and soft pink lips?), as well as his guilt over going behind Lisa's back. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that Dean has already had the opportunity to do those things, but simply hadn't been able to muster up the give-a-damn to feel properly guilty about any of it. Things feel right with Cas in ways nothing else ever has. He somehow knows Sam won't understand any of that though. Won't understand how Dean can be in love with someone other than his wife (and he is in love, even if he's never said it to Cas. He'd grown to accept that some time ago).

When they blessedly pull up into Dean's drive way, both his house and Castiel's are dark, sans porch lights left on for when the men return home. They silently exit the car, the slamming of doors loud in the stillness of the night. Cas exits on the passenger's side of the car, not saying a word, though he briefly glances up at Dean, wordlessly conveying his _good night_. Something roars up in Dean at that look, and while he could probably blame the lingering alcohol in his system, he chooses not to.

In a fit of defiance, he grabs Cas's arm, pulling him in close and locking his arms around the smaller man, firmly kissing him right under his brother's burning gaze. He can feel the gasp of surprise Cas lets out, and takes advantage of the opportunity to tangle his tongue against Castiel's.

Cas grips at his arms, swaying unsteadily into the heat of the kiss, and Dean can't help but feel a rush of warm pride run through him that he can elicit that reaction out of someone as normally composed as Castiel Novak. He knows he's being juvenile, trying to piss his brother off more because Sam has no right to judge him, he knows it even as he's threading a hand through Castiel's dark hair, to pull at it slightly, earning him a quiet whimper that he more feels reverberating against his lips than he hears it. He knows he's being wholly reckless, that Lisa could walk out at any moment and see him all but devouring their very male, very married neighbor, knows that even as he's nipping at Castiel's already swollen lips, feeling the man trembling under his hands.

When Sam clears his throat, Dean ignores him, still set on memorizing every flavor of Castiel's mouth like he hasn't done so already. It's only when Sam bites out _"Dean"_ in that dangerous tone that he thinks makes him sound commanding and Dean only thinks makes him sound like even more of a little bitch does he finally pull away from the walking slice of Heaven in his arms.

He feels instantly proud of himself as he admires Cas's swollen, bruising lips, completely wild hair, and glazed-over, lust blown eyes. His heart also flutters into his stomach a little at the look of pure adoration he receives from Cas. Dean offers him a small smile, leaning to press a soft kiss to his temple.

"Night, Cas," he whispers into Cas's hair, reluctant to let go. _I love you_, he thinks shamelessly, the feeling hitting him like a freight train.

Cas offers him a warm, reassuring smile of his own, eyes lighting up with the purity of it. "Good night, Dean."

Dean watches Cas walk across the lawn to his own house, an ache settling in his chest the farther away he is. Loving Castiel like this must surely be a sickness because it's never hurt this much with anyone else.

Once Cas is through the door and the Novaks' porch light goes dark, Dean rounds on Sam. "So, let's hear it."

Sam looks livid, eyes boiling with barely contained rage and condemnation. "What they hell, Dean!?" He's obviously trying to keep his voice down, but the anger carries through.

"'What the hell' what? Gotta be a little more specific here, Sammy." Dean knows he's being a little shit, baiting his brother into a full-on, moose-like rage, but it's suddenly all he feels he has left to do, like maybe Sam's burning anger can fill the cold emptiness left in Castiel's wake.

"Damn it, Dean! You know 'what'! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Having gay sex with my neighbor, Sammy. Do we really need to have _that _talk?" Dean's smirking lazily. It's what Sam had long ago deemed his 'self-depreciating asshole look,' and he hasn't seen it since Dean and Lisa got together.

Sam's expression softens in the face of it, and Dean immediately hates him for it. He doesn't want to be coddled, treated like broken goods over this.

"Dean, how long?" Sam asks it so softly, like all he wants to do it understand, and it's a blow to Dean's everything. Sam's anger he can handle, feels he probably deserves. Someone should punish him over his infidelity, since he seems wont to. But Sam's compassion? Sam's compassion makes him feel like the go-nowhere drop out he was in the years before Lisa. It makes him feel like he's taken all that Lisa gave him, all that purpose and love, and stomped all over it. And then he feels bad for not feeling bad enough.

"Dean..."

"About six or seven months," he whispers, thinking back to that first, clumsy night. It had been all mouths and hands, nothing loving or overly intimate, but it had felt so damn _**real**_ that it had left Dean burning with a want for more. But if he was honest, it had started long before that, before anything physical had ever happened. He'd been drawn to those blue eyes and that comforting smile ever since Lisa first invited the new neighbors over. He'd never been able to get enough of it, always looking forward to the next time he could bask in Castiel's warmth. He had to have known, even then, that on some level this wasn't a friendship like any others he'd ever had, but as he'd never been particularly practiced in healthy friendships, he'd lied to himself easily enough. At least he had until booze had pried his senses.

"I didn't know you were gay," Sam mutters, obviously struggling to grasp at the fact his brother was having an extramarital affair with another man.

Anger swells through Dean at the assumption, at Sam trying to pigeonhole him into some preconceived notion of sexuality and love. "I'm not!" he snaps. Not defensively, but rather in correction.

Sam pulls bitch face number 22. "Dean," he starts slowly, as though coaxing a spooked animal, "you're having an affair with a guy."

Dean glares, feelings of protectiveness he never knew were in him swell up in the face of his brother referring to Cas like he was just any random person on the street. "Not 'a guy'," he corrects, "Cas."

Something comes over Sam's face at that, some sort of cold realization that hardens his face into something Dean can't read. "What about Lisa?"

Dean can't keep up with the litany of emotions coursing through him anymore as he clenches his jaws and fist in tandem. "What about her?"

"Do you still love her?"

"Of course I do!" And that's not a lie. He's loved Lisa as much as he ever has. She's a godsend, his angel on Earth who saved him from the darkest depths of himself. The only problem is, that's somehow seemingly starting to pale in the face of his love for Cas. They're on almost equal footing now, and Dean feels like he's drowning.

"Does she know?"

"No. And don't you dare tell her!"

And then Sam asks the question that is like dousing Dean in cold water. "Does Meg know?"

Dean doesn't have an answer for that. He'd always assumed it was a secret between him and Cas. After all, who cops to cheating on their hot wife with another dude (and yes, he's admitting Meg is hot. He isn't blind, after all. He just hates her personality)? But then he remembers snippets of conversation, jokes that Meg would make at his expense, and looks that she would shoot him when he and Cas would be talking. They'd never been accusatory, though. They were more amused, like Dean and her were in on the same dirty joke. So when the _no_ Dean had been primed to answer with dies on his tongue, Sam gives him a pitying look.

"I think you guys need to talk," is all he says before turning and heading back into the house.

Dean is left standing there wondering if his brother means Lisa or Cas.

* * *

This didn't turn out at all like I initially intended, but I actually like it this way better than I did the initial plan.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, pharocomics!


	5. Chapter 5

_So many more people started following this since the last chapter! You guys are so awesome! Thank you! I hope this chapter is satisfactory!_

_Thank you to pharocomics, my lovely beta! Even if she seemed mad at me over this chapter! lol!_

* * *

Two weeks since Sam left, and Dean still hasn't spoken to Cas about whether or not Meg knows. He figures she has to though, because in the light of day the following morning, Dean was finally able to see the number he did on the guy. Cas had been covered in hickies of varying shade, but nothing seemed off about the couple. Hell, Dean had even overheard Lisa asking Meg about it, and his neighbor just laughed conspiratorially, saying something about drunk sex. Meg fucking Novak had covered up Dean's illicit affair with her husband. So he figures she has to know, and she has to know that Lisa doesn't.

Which he isn't too sure how the Novaks know for certain that he's been dishonest, especially since they obviously tell each other _everything_, but Dean is grateful for it. Even if he feels kind of like the scum of the Earth. But none of that is important now. Not when Lisa and Meg are gone for another weekend, Ben is away at camp, and Dean has Cas to himself for the next two days.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Cas is laughing as he says it, shaking his head and not exactly saying no to the next glass of wine.

Dean flashes a grin, eyebrows waggling. "Maybe. Is it working?"

Cas smiles at him over the rim of the glass, blue eyes flashing alluringly up through dark lashes. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Dean throws his head back in a full body laugh. "That's a yes."

It's the perfect evening- wine, dinner, and candlelight followed by watching a movie and more wine. Touching leads to kissing, which leads to groping, which leads them to the bed. And afterwords, they get to bask in the afterglow, snuggled up until they fall asleep.

The following morning is just as great. They wake up and don't make it out of bed for another hour, hands roaming skin and making love unhurriedly. They steal kisses and more touches between getting each other dressed, and it's everything Dean feels he needs. By the time he's cooking breakfast for them, he almost has himself convinced that this is it, this is his life. He and Cas are together, no complications, only domestic bliss.

It all tumbles back down when, looking up from the paper, Cas says, "Oh, before I forget, Meg and I want to take you and Lisa out for dinner next weekend."

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat, concentrating on the eggs in the skillet. "Yeah, okay. Shouldn't be a problem."

Dean thinks he might be sick. Knows he is. How else could he so willingly forget that this isn't his life.

* * *

They're at another fancy restaurant, the kind of place where the wine list is longer than the menu. Meg and Cas are all smiles, practically glowing, all wrapped up in each other. It makes Dean sick to his stomach. He's sure he knows what's coming. It hasn't escaped his notice that despite the wine selection, the only thing Meg has been drinking all night is water.

He chokes his food down, barely tasting it, which seems a damn shame because everyone else only has praises to sing about it. By the time dessert comes, Dean's stomach is in enough knots to rival a bag of twist pretzels, and it's a miracle he hasn't puked yet.

No sooner are all the forks set to rest, plates not yet cleaned away, do Castiel and Meg smile at each other, having some silent conversation in the way married couples do, and then they're smiling at the Winchesters across the table.

"So we have an announcement." Cas is practically beaming. Dean's sure he's never even seen Cas this happy, and it sends a myriad of emotions catapulting through him, rushing around far too quickly for him to even count or consider.

Lisa's lips spread into a knowing grin. "Do you now?"

"Don't act so smug," Meg chastises, smiling brightly herself. Dean's never seen her look so genuinely happy, no trace of sarcasm in her voice or features.

Lisa laughs, waving her hand in a _go-on-then_ motion.

Dean thinks he's having an out of body experience.

Meg and Cas exchange one more look, hands intertwined, looking so damn in love, before they turn their attention back on the other couple.

"I'm pregnant," Meg admits, grin set to split her face.

"I knew it!" Lisa shouts with a squeal, attracting more than a few stares. Then she's up and around the table, hugging the other woman enthusiastically.

Dean is shocked he doesn't toss his cookies on the spot. He's even more shocked that he manages to actually smile and give congratulations to the couple. At least he would feel shocked if he could feel anything.

He is definitely having an out of body experience.

* * *

Dean's week goes by in a haze. He doesn't remember most of it, fumbling through on autopilot. No one seems the wiser, though, so at least there's that. At some point, he must agree to go out with Cas because come Friday night, that's what he's doing. They share beers and conversation, Cas apparently too high on his own life to notice Dean's lack of involvement. Or maybe he's as involved as he always is, it just feels like less? Either way, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

It's way past last call when Dean is forcefully slammed back into his body. They're parked in some dark, empty parking lot. Cas is in his lap, rutting against him, pawing at Dean's clothes, as they make out sloppy and desperate. Except suddenly the only thing Dean feels desperate for is to get away.

He shoves Cas back, possibly with a little more force than necessary, and they both jump as Cas's back hits the horn, the sharp blaring breaking the silence of the still night outside.

Cas searches Dean's eyes, clearly startled and concerned. "Dean, what is it? What's wrong?"

Cas cups Dean's face in his palms, and Dean almost lets himself melt into the touch, almost lets himself be comforted and fall back into the happy lie. But then resentment is flaring back up again, hot and angry, and he's forcing Cas off of him and back onto the passenger's side. He resolutely ignores the hurt that flashes through the other man's eyes. _Let him be the one hurting for once_, Dean can't help but think.

They don't say a word the whole drive back home, and when Castiel goes to give him a kiss goodnight, Dean refuses to meet his gaze. Despite Dean's stoicism though, Cas still gives him a soft peck on the cheek before muttering a quiet "Good night, Dean," and getting out of the car.

He waits until Cas is in his house, porch light shut off, before he gets out of the car himself. He contemplates opening up the liquor cabinet and getting out the strong shit, drinking away his problems like he hasn't done in years, but then reconsiders. There's Lisa to consider, and Ben, as well. He wouldn't dare subject Ben to waking up to find his step-father passed out drunk in the kitchen, even if Lisa wouldn't kill him for it (which she would). Dean knows the feeling of having an alcoholic dad all too well himself to ever consider letting it happen.

So instead, he trudges upstairs, strips down to his boxers, and slips into bed with Lisa. He watches her sleep, grateful he didn't disturb her, and he thinks about how much simpler life was before the Novaks moved in.

* * *

The next morning is slow going, the whole Winchester-Braeden family having a day off. They enjoy a Novak-free day, all of them packing up and driving the couple of hours out to the nearest amusement park. The heat is sweltering, and the place is packed, but it's the best day Dean has had in quite some time. Guilt niggles at his consciousness for his infidelity, his willingness to betray his family. Eventually, though, all of that fades away into background noise, and Dean embraces the day with his wife and step-son.

Ben passes out on the way home, and catching glimpses of the sleeping boy in his rear-view mirror fills Dean's heart to bursting with love. This is all he needs- Lisa and Ben. He's sure of it. They're his life, have been for years, and he was an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. He slides a hand into Lisa's, offering her a loving smile, which she returns tenfold.

Once they're home and in their own room, Ben tucked in for the night, Dean suffers from a severe case of word vomit.

"Let's have a baby."

He regrets the words even before Lisa turns to him with a shocked expression.

He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Sorry... I... The heat must have gotten to me today."

Lisa sighs. "Dean..." She sits next to him, wrapping her arms around him. "Hey, come on, look at me."

He does, begrudgingly.

"Where's this coming from?"

He shakes his head. "Just... got a little envious of Meg and Cas, I guess. They seem so happy. I guess it's contagious?" As bile rises up the back of his throat, he feels like he's about to suffer more than just word vomit.

Lisa's smile is strained, tinged at the edges with sadness. "Yeah... Yeah, I can see that. But Dean... We've talked about this before."  
"Yeah, I know, just a moment of stupidity." He shrugs her off a little more brusquely than he means to, standing and stripping for bed.

"Dean..." The tenderness and concern in her voice is like hot coals against his skin.

"Let's just go to bed, Lis."

She's silent for a moment, staring at him sadly, before she finally nods her assent, a quiet "Alright," slipping past her lips.

With the lights off and their backs to each other, Dean feels like a complete jackass for his earlier optimism. He's a selfish bastard, an absolute moron. That's the only explanation for why the two best things that have ever happened to him in his shitty life aren't enough anymore.

His life is falling apart.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm actually very please with this chapter, and am very excited to get it posted! Especially after my beta had rave reviews. Speaking of!

Thanks you to my lovely beta, pharocomics!

* * *

The next morning when Dean wakes up, it's to find that Lisa is already up and out of bed. He contemplates not moving the whole day, playing sick, but he figures he has to face the music eventually. Dragging himself out of bed is a chore, and walking downstairs and into the kitchen feels like walking down the plank. There's a tightness in his chest when he finds Lisa in the there, cooking breakfast. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, not quite ready or willing to make his presence known. The decision is made for him, however, when Lisa turns around and spots him. She offers him a small smile, full of warmth and love, and it honestly makes him a little queasy.

"How did you sleep?" she asks.

"Okay. You?" He tries to sound natural, like he isn't as uncomfortable as he feels.

She gives a small shrug. "Pretty well. Woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep though, so decided to do some yoga outside while the sun was coming up. Was just what the doctor ordered, I think." Her smile is wider, and Dean unconsciously finds himself smiling back.

They fall silent after that, the air between them tense and awkward.

"Look, Dean..."

"I'm sorry!"

They both stop, their words having overlapped one another. Lisa furrows her brow. "Why on earth are you sorry?"

He wants to shove his hands in his pockets, but realizes he doesn't have any on his boxers. It leaves him feeling overly exposed. "Because... Last night. I shouldn't have said that."

Lisa scrunches her nose up further. "Why not?"

Dean throws his hands up in exasperation. "Because you don't want anymore kids! You said it when we got married! And I'm just being a selfish asshole, okay!?"

"Dean Winchester!" He swallows, wanting to disappear in the face of her outrage despite his frustration. "No, maybe I don't want any more children, but that doesn't mean you should feel sorry for bringing it up. We're married. We have to be able to discuss the things on our minds. I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me about stuff like this just because we had a conversation about it six years ago." She walks over and places her hands on his cheeks, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, guiding him to look into her eyes. She's looking at him with so much care and concern that it makes him feel even worse. "What's gotten into you lately?"

He shakes his head as best he can with Lisa still holding him in place and offers her a weak smile. "I don't know. Probably nothing. Maybe I'm going through a midlife crisis or something."

And maybe that's all any of it really is. Maybe that's all this thing with Cas is. It's a midlife crisis. After six years of living the apple pie life, Dean is feeling restless.

Lisa makes a small noise of doubt, still looking overly concerned, but the conversation is officially over as Ben barrels down the stairs, asking about breakfast.

* * *

In deciding that he's going through a midlife crisis, Dean also decides to keep his distance from Cas. It is both harder and easier than he would have first imagined. Cas, for his part, is not pushy. He texts a couple of times, but when Dean ignores them, he doesn't continue trying. Dean actually feels a little jipped, a little angry, because Castiel doesn't seem half as phased by any of this as Dean himself is. Maybe it has to do with expecting a baby, or maybe Cas just never cared as much to begin with. Or Dean started caring too much altogether. (Or maybe Cas is just trying to give him space because the last time the two of them parted, it wasn't necessarily on the friendliest of terms, but thinking about it like that makes Dean feel like an ass, so he tries to avoid that particular train.)

So it isn't actually the avoiding Cas part that's hard. As always, it's the actual being away from Cas part that has him struggling. Dean hasn't been good at that from day one, and it is certainly no easier now that he's hooked. Still, he's made a vow to himself to be a better husband, to not be a lying and cheating scumbag, so he sticks to it, no matter how much time he spends staring at his phone while he's alone, pining over the man that lives not fifty feet from his front door.

It goes well for almost a month. Cas finally stops trying to talk to him, and if it breaks Dean's heart at all, he steadfastly ignores it and throws himself into other things. Best of all, Lisa doesn't really question the distance between them due to the fact she's barely seen Meg, either, the Novaks preoccupied with preparing for their newest member. Dean actually thinks they're out of town for part of that time as well, visiting family of some kind, based on what he heard of Lisa's phone conversation.

So he thinks maybe he can pull this off, and that maybe he won't feel like someone is punching through his chest the next time he has to see the guy.

But that only lasts for about a month.

* * *

It's a Friday morning in the middle of July, Lisa and Ben are away for the week visiting her parents, and Dean is home by himself working on his car when someone knocks on the wall near the open garage door. He about jumps out of his skin, somehow managing to not concuss himself when he smacks his head on the hood. He slides out only to see Meg standing at the entryway, eyebrow raised and small smirk in place. He stomach immediately curdles.

"Lisa's not here," he says by way of greeting, hoping maybe she'll just leave.

"Well that's okay, because I actually wanted to talk to you, big boy."

In an effort not to scowl at the woman, he lifts a bland eyebrow instead. "Isn't it a little inappropriate to be flirting with your best friend's husband?"

Her smirk only widens further. "When did you get a sense of propriety, Deano? Didn't seem too much to me like you cared for what was inappropriate while you were sticking it to my husband."

It's like a punch to the gut, and as he doesn't know how to respond to that, he's left floundering helplessly.

"Which is actually what I came to talk to you about," Meg says as she makes her way into the garage, smoothing the skirt of her flowery sundress as she takes a seat on Dean's work stool.

He swallows and then takes a deep breath. Right, he can do this. Talk to the wife of his ex-boyfriend? Totally easy. It's not like anything is going on anymore, anyway, and he says as much to her.

Megs settles him with a calculating look, one that screams she's disappointed in him, which honestly makes no damn sense. "That's pretty much the problem," she says, and yep. This makes no damn sense.

She sighs. "Look, Dean, I know we tend to butt heads, but I also happen to know that Castiel... Well, he cares about you."

Dean's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Wait. Wait wait wait. Wait just a minute here."

Meg raises a brow at him, looking on the cusp of amusement.

"Are you telling me that you're over here to talk to me about... what? Starting to bone your husband again?"

Meg chuckles, shaking her head. "Not as dumb as you look. Knew you couldn't be if Clarence is so smitten with you." She settles her gaze back on Dean. "But yes, that is essentially what I'm here for. Castiel cares about you, and while I know he's trying not to let it show, he's pretty upset that you just fell off the grid with him.

"Look, if you want it to be over, fine, that's your choice, but I think you at least owe him a little closure. We're all adults here, after all, even if we're sometimes piss poor examples of it."

"I owe _him_ closure? What about me?"

Meg tilts her head, and it's so reminiscent of Castiel that it's kind of creepy. Dean's left wondering which one of them picked up the habit from which. Or maybe they've both always done it, and it was some creepy thing to bond over back when they started dating (and what does it even really matter?).

"What about _you?_" she asks, and the quiet accusation in her tone throw him off.

She sighs again, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her knuckles. She looks like she's studying him, as though he's some specimen under a microscope and she's trying to understand what makes Dean Winchester tick.

She closes her eyes with a tired sigh, and when she opens them again, they're much softer. "I think you think there's some competition between me and you, and you have to realize that that isn't how this works. I'm his _wife_, Dean. No matter what you two have going on between you, he comes home to me at the end of the day."

Dean may or may not actually flinch at the remark, but he definitely narrows his eyes at her. "Gee, thanks for that. Way to make me feel better about the situation."

Meg exhales a sound of exasperation, moving to stand. Hands on her hips, she says, "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you have to accept that we're _both_ important parts of his life. He cares about us both. And I, for one, am okay with that. I know he doesn't love me any less because of you, but at the same time you give him something I can't, though whatever that may be beyond a good dicking is seriously beyond my grasp." She shrugs, and he grits his teeth.

Meg looks back up into his eyes, expression serious and almost... pleading? "You make him happy, Dean, and that's important to me. Whatever makes my husband happy, I'm happy to let him have. But my feelings on the subject don't matter much if you can't get over your own jealousy."

He matches her stare for a solid ten seconds before he has to look away. She's right, after all. Maybe Castiel hasn't been the most attentive at all times, but Dean has to admit that maybe he also hasn't made it easy. Dean was the one who acted like it was a competition with the guy's wife. Dean was the one who got them caught by Sam. Dean was the one who had been delusional and wanting more than was perhaps fair of either of them. And Cas? He tended to handle it all with grace. Maybe there was something to be left desired, but considering the circumstances, what more should Dean really have expected.

Finally, he glances back at her out of the corner of his eye and asks, "How do you two do it?"

Meg looks honestly confused. "Do what?"

"The open marriage thing."

Meg's expression lands somewhere between shocked and amused, but then finally settles on kind, which is a look Dean is unfamiliar with within the confines of her face. "We don't," she says. "At least we didn't before you came along."

"W-what?"

She places her hands on her hips and smiles at him. "Look, I know you got a pile of daddy issues a mile high, but believe it or not, you're special, and don't you dare make me say that again."

"But then... How... Why did..." He isn't sure just how to word his question.

"Why did he tell me?"

Dean nods mutely.

"Look, the two of us, we've been through some shit in the past. Ten years together? It hasn't always been easy, but we trust each other implicitly. We don't lie to each other, not about the big things. After the first time anything happened between you two, he was in a panic, confessed as soon as I got home that weekend. We talked about it. Hell, I talked him through it. And I honestly don't mind any of it because like I said, I know it doesn't mean he loves me any less. He just cares about someone else too. Love is funny that way."

Dean furrows his brow. "So... you knew that night? And you still sent me over there?"

Meg rolls her eyes. "Of course I knew! I probably saw it coming before either of you."

"Then why?"

"Why what? Send you over there to talk to him? Gee, I don't know, maybe because he was upset that he might have lost his best friend? Maybe because the two of you needed to talk? There's a myriad of reasons, Dean. Just pick the one you like best."

He nods slowly, still trying to absorb everything she's telling him- that she basically set him and Cas up from the get go. Because seriously, if she hadn't, who's to say how things would have turned out. Probably a shit ton less complicated, that's for sure, but all the same he doesn't regret it. If given the chance for a do-over, he'd still go back over there and kiss the guy every time.

Her voice pulls him back to the present. "So, will you talk to him?"

Dean licks his lips nervously then nods. "If you're sure he even wants to talk to me, then yeah."

"Oh trust me, he wants to talk to you. Like I said, he's missed you."

"Then, yeah. Yeah. I'll talk to him."

Meg gives him a relieved smile. "I'm glad."

As she turns to leave, Dean calls after her, "Wait, Meg!"

She glances back over her shoulder.

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat. "Um... look, about Lisa... Thank you for, you know, not telling her. I know maybe it isn't fair to ask you to keep my secret, given how open you and Cas are with each other, but... I do appreciate it."

Meg smiles back, sympathy written all over her face. "Oh Dean, it's not my place to get involved in someone else's marriage. Yeah, maybe you should have told her, but it's not my place to make that decision. I've been married long enough to know that."

And then, without another word, she's gone.

* * *

Dean agonizes over whether he should call or text Cas- which would be the better choice? Texting seems like the coward's way out, plus there is the chance a text could get lost out in the nether between their two phones, and then what? It would look like Dean hadn't meant what he said to Meg, that's what. On the other hand, he is kind of a coward when it comes to stuff like this, and the thought of calling Cas and him not answering sends Dean's stomach into twists and turns that make him sick. And what would he even say if Cas _did_ answer? At least with a text he can rewrite it until he gets it right. But is this really a talk to have over text?

In the end, he decides it isn't a phone-kind of conversation at all, and shows up at the Novaks' front door, bouquet of yellow daisies in hand.

When Cas opens the door, Dean thrusts the yellow flowers at him, blurting out, "I'm sorry I was such an ass."

Castiel's eyes are wide, going back and forth between Dean and the daisies several times before he finally steps out on the porch and closes the door behind him.

They stand in silence, Dean watching Cas, and Cas watching his feet, until the latter finally shakes his head and says, "I should be the one apologizing. I... I didn't think about how things would affect you."

Dean could laugh from relief, and he almost does, causing Castiel to look up just in time to catch sight of Dean's dazzling and relieved smile. "No, man, look, I was wrong, alright? I was jealous of your damn wife, okay? Hell, I was jealous of my own brother!"

Castiel looks mildly surprised at this. "You were?"

Dean shakes his head in disappointment at himself, but unable to shake off the smile knowing that Cas didn't hate him. "Yep. Pretty pathetic, right?"

Castiel quirks his head to the side, befuddled. "But... why? I don't understand what reason there was to be jealous."

Dean heaves a sigh, sticking one hand in his pocket, unable to meet Cas's gaze while telling him, "Just... You guys, you and Sammy, you're both so fucking smart. I can't talk to you like he can, won't ever be able to."

He almost jumps when Cas crowds up in his space, hands cupping Dean's cheeks. He meets Cas's eyes almost by reflex then, and the guy is looking at him so adoringly and reassuringly that it makes Dean's insides feel all melty, which he immediately knows he will never in his life admit to.

"First of all," Cas begins, staring straight through Dean's eyes and down into him, "don't you ever sell yourself short. You are incredibly smart." A small scoff falls from Dean's lips before he can stop it, which has Cas's eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. "I'm serious. No, maybe you aren't well-versed in certain subjects, but that's everyone. I don't know the first thing about cars, for example, but you're brilliant with them."

Dean rolls eyes. "That's my job, Cas."

"Maybe so, but you also have a passion for it, and it is definitely not something everyone can do." Cas says it with such finality and assurance that it stops any other protests Dean can even think of making. Cas really does believe in him, and it's not something he's used to because, sure, Lisa may believe in him, too, but even she's never seemed to believe in him quite this way. She's supported him in things they both know he can do, but Cas actually seems to think he's capable of whatever he sets his mind to.

The realization that Castiel, smart, beautiful, successful Castiel believes in him, has Dean so overrun with emotion that he doesn't even know how to begin expressing it. He decides not to try, instead wrapping his free hand around the back of Cas's head and pulling him in for a kiss.

Castiel's lips taste like Heaven after so long apart, and Dean can't help taking advantage of their difference in height to tip Cas's head back further and deepen the kiss, tongue slipping through the seam of the older man's mouth.

Castiel is holding onto him like a lifeline, making small, helpless noises as Dean ravages his mouth and rakes fingers through his hair. When they finally break apart, they don't go far, resting their foreheads against one another.

Cas's eyes are closed as he catches his breath, and Dean revels in the sight of him, debauched and gorgeous and his. The thought has him reflexively tightening his hold on the shorter man. When Cas finally opens his eyes, the happiness and sheer intensity of blue takes Dean's breath away.

"I'm glad you came over," he says, small smile lighting up his face.

Dean considers mentioning it was Meg's idea, but decides against it. That's hardly the point, after all. Instead, he matches Castiel's smile and says, "I'm glad you opened the door."

Castiel stares into him again, and Dean thinks he could drown. "I will always open the door for you," he promises, and it makes something warm and heavy settle in Dean's stomach. It makes him giddy and causes him to chuckle warmly.

"I'll hold you to that, Cas," he says, pressing another, much more chaste kiss to those plush lips.

* * *

And so life goes on, things finally feeling normal again. The anger leaves Dean, as well as the guilt. He maybe feels a little bad that he doesn't actually feel that bad, but even that pales under the light of just how loved he feels between Lisa and Cas.


	7. Chapter 7

My only excuse for this taking this long is that holidays and holiday fic happened. Was just super busy, oops! But here's the next chapter with a bit of smut to make up for it!

Huge thanks to pharocomics, as always, for betaing!

* * *

Dean is enough of a man to admit when he's wrong (to himself, at least), and he's definitely ready to admit that all his hatred of Meg? Yeah, that was definitely wrong.

"I can't believe your wife fucking paid for us to have a romantic weekend together." He glances away from the road to watch Cas out of the corner of his eye, the giddy butterflies he's felt all week raring up again. "Hell, she even covered for us with Lis, what with that birthday present for herself thing."

It was probably the only reason the whole thing worked out at all. Meg had made arrangements for Dean and Cas to go to some quaint little tourist town a few hours away under the cover that she'd had the reservation for her and Cas for almost a year, but since she is now so far along her in pregnancy, she is no longer able to make the trip. She hated having to lose the reservation, so why don't Dean and Castiel just go instead? They can make a guys weekend of it. Lisa hadn't thought twice.

"It was rather clever of her," Cas responds, staring in consternation at a map.

Dean's can't help but break out into a grin because who else besides Cas would insist on a map when they have a perfectly good GPS running from Dean's phone. "Why don't you take a break with that thing, man?"

Castiel's scowl deepens. "What if we get lost in the interim? Then what?"

Dean chuckles. "Well, first of all, we've got GPS going, _but_," he says before Cas can even begin to chastise him on the unreliability of satellite signals, "if that fails we just stop and ask for directions." Castiel looks at him dubiously. "What? I'm serious. I am perfectly capable to stopping and asking for directions believe it or not."

Castiel continues staring.

"Please?" Dean implores. "I want to be able to talk to you and get more than grunting in response." So sue him if that's a girl thing to say, he's happy.

Castiel considers him for a moment more before saying, "Alright then," and stashing the map in the dash (of course, not before meticulously folding it back the way it was).

* * *

The November sun has barely set when Dean pulls off on the side of the road.

Castiel furrows his brow, barely making out Dean's outline in the darkness. "Is everything okay?"

Dean turns the lights and car off. "Yeah, everything's just fine, Cas."

"Then why-" Cas is cut off as Dean pulls him in for a kiss, tongue sweeping gently into his mouth and eliciting a moan. He's backed against the door of the car, head tilted back as Dean takes his time with the kiss, tongue mapping every corner of his mouth as his hand slides up the inside of Castiel's leg.

When Dean finally pulls away, Cas feels dizzy and breathless, overly hot and sensitive where Dean's hand is softly stroking the inside of his thigh, just shy of his cock. "Dean?"

He can't see the smile so much as hear it when Dean responds, "Yes, Cas?"

"Did you pull over just so we could have sex?"

Dean _hums_ a small laugh, mouthing at Cas's neck as his hands start massaging the older man's thighs. "If I did?"

Castiel tries to pretend he isn't enjoying this long enough to act like the reasonable one. "The inn's only another-" he intakes sharply as Dean's thumb roves quickly over the seam of his zipper, "-another hour and a half away. You couldn't wait?"

This time he feels the smile against his neck as Dean pauses his ministrations. Dean places one last chaste kiss to Cas's neck before nosing affectionately up to his ear where he whispers, "I told you I wanted to give you road head, remember?"

Castiel gasps, head falling back against the window with a _thunk_, when Dean punctuates the statement by firmly palming his hand against Cas's crotch.

Dean keeps up the torture, the slow rub of denim against Cas's cock slowly melting his brain. It takes all he has in him to croak out, "This is parking, Dean."

Dean trails a line of small kisses from Cas's ear to his mouth, finishing in a barely there brush of lips that stands in stark contrast to the way he's rubbing Cas to full hardness.

"So swap places with me," Dean mutters, just out of reach of Castiel's searching lips.

"What?"

Dean pulls away completely, chuckling at the way Cas whines at the loss of contact. "I said swap places with me. We'll get to the hotel basically on time, and I get to suck you off behind the wheel of my baby. It's a win-win."

Cas shakes his head numbly. "Dean, I don't think-"

Dean kisses him again, much softer this time, verging on just this side of tender. When he pulls away, Cas can just make out his eyes, beautifully green and imploring, as he whispers, "Cas, please? This weekend is about us, right? And shit, I want this more than you know."

It sets butterflies off in Cas's stomach, hearing the unadulterated want in Dean's voice, knowing that this is so important to him, that he trusts Cas enough to let him behind the wheel of his precious car. That he trusts Cas enough to hand over control. So Cas swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and nods. "Alright."

Dean kisses him again, enthusiastic and smiling, and Cas can't help smiling in return, making the kiss all but impossible to keep up. "Thanks, Cas."

Swapping spots requires maneuvering around each other, Cas crawling over Dean's lap, and they end up sloppily making out even more, rutting against each other, coaxing Cas's waning erection back to life. When Cas finally makes it into the driver's seat, he lands ungracefully, breaths labored and forehead sweaty. He notices with distant amusement that they've almost completely steamed up the windows.

He takes a moment to catch his breath before turning the key in the ignition, the rumble of the engine turning him on far more than it should. His pulse quickens in excitement as he tries to keep his hands steady as he turns on the lights and pulls back out onto the road.

He manages to keep the car surprisingly steady when he feels Dean's hand once more on his crotch, slowly pulling down the zipper of his jeans and pulling him out of his boxers. The touch of hot-cold air of the car's interior on his cock makes him hiss. Dean just chuckles, the puffs of his breath against Cas's sensitive skin making him bite his lip in order to maintain enough concentration to keep them on the road.

Cas whines as Dean licks a slow stripe up his dick, from base to tip, tonguing at the slit. He's white-knuckling the wheel as Dean slips his lips over the head, suckling gently, the soft suction just enough to slowly drive Cas insane.

Dean slowly takes more of him in each time he bobs his head, jacking Cas where his mouth isn't. It's a messy affair, Dean pulling off regularly to place wet kisses and sucks along the shaft, and it's all Cas can do to keep from swerving the car into the other lane when Dean swipes his thumb over the slit as he mouths at the base.

"Dean, please," Castiel groans.

Dean smiles against Cas's skin, saying with a chuckle, "Whatever you say, baby."

He kisses back up Cas's dick with a few well-placed nips of teeth that have Castiel moaning unabashedly, placing one last kiss to the tip when he reaches the top, tongue snaking out to greedily lap up the precome accumulated there. Then he sinks down on Cas's cock until it hits the back of his throat. Cas gives a long moan of Dean's name, tangling the fingers of one hand in short brown locks, as Dean swallows the rest of him. He bobs up and down, jaw slack, fucking Cas with his mouth. Cas who is moaning beautifully above him, gasping out _"Oh God"_ and _"Dean, please!"_

It isn't long before Cas groans out, "Dean, I'm close," his fingers flexing tightly in Dean's hair. And when he comes with a cry of Dean's name, Dean makes sure to swallow it all.

Cas pulls off on the side of the road quickly, putting the car in park, and then yanks Dean up by the grip he's still holding in the younger man's hair. He kisses him artlessly, a starving man seeking sustenance, and Dean is happy to reciprocate. When Cas finally pulls away, he falls back against the back of the seat, eyes closed and gasping for breath.

"Thank God for boat seats," he says, and Dean laughs.

They sit a moment in silence, Castiel's body slowly catching up with what just took place, breathing slowly steadying out. Dean presses a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Want me to take back over?"

Cas nods sluggishly. "Don't think I could drive anymore if I tried."

Dean smiles, running a hand through Cas's hair and down the side of his face. "You looked beautiful though, behind the wheel of my car like that. Better than I ever imagined."

Cas glances at him out of the corner of his eye, wearing a lazy smirk. "You imagine things like that often?"

"All the fucking time," Dean says, placing one more kiss to Castiel's jaw. "Now move over so I can drive. I'll wake you up when we get there."

* * *

The hotel is beautiful in its simplicity, definitely a place for a couple's getaway. Dean kind of hopes Lisa never looks the place up.  
Cas insists on a shower first thing, shooting Dean a dirty look as he complains of feeling sticky with sweat. Dean offers to join, to which Castiel responds with an adamant _"No!"_, but Dean takes the shirt Cas throws at him and the smile as a "yes."

The shower takes about three times as long as it should, due in large part to Cas falling to his knees as soon as they're under the warm spray to reciprocate the earlier favor. After that they leisurely help clean each other in between languid kisses.

After, they wrap themselves up in the fluffy robes provided by the inn and fall into bed to order room-service and watch TV. They're asleep by ten, surrounded by empty plates and tangled up in each other, the muted light of the TV continuing to run.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean wakes up the next morning to warm sunshine falling through gossamer curtains and Castiel sleeping, curled up into Dean's side. Getting to watch Cas sleep like this fills Dean's heart to bursting. Unable to keep the dumb smile off his face, he brushes stray hairs back from Castiel's face and trails his hand, feather light, down Cas's arm to his hand which is resting on Dean's hip. He twines their fingers together, and the lack of metal in the touch sets off butterflies in his stomach.

Not for the first time, he thinks about how this could be real, about how he could wake up next to Cas every morning and get to watch him sleep. He thinks about how they would lay in bed on weekends, tangled between the sheets and each other's legs, until they finally heeded the grumbling of their stomachs and their need for coffee. On weekdays they would dance around each other in the bathroom and kitchen as they got ready for work, an intricate choreography to which only they knew the moves. They would never leave without a kiss and a parting "I love you." In the evenings they'd cook dinner together and curl up to watch TV before falling into bed to sleep, wrapped in one another's arms. Then, in the morning, they'd wake up and do it all over again, but Dean would never mind the monotony.

It isn't the first time he's thought about it, but with no wedding rings as solid reminders between them, it is the first time it's ever seemed so attainable.

"What are you thinking about?" Castiel's sleep-rough voice draws Dean back into the here and now.

Castiel looks as content as Dean feels, and Dean squeezes his hand unconsciously. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

Cas's smile broadens, and he squeezes Dean's hand back. "That makes two of us."

Dean rolls on top of Cas, never dropping his hand, instead pinning it to the pillow by Cas's head, fingers still entwined. He kisses Cas, deep and slow, tongue licking languidly into his mouth.

Cas tangles his free hand into Dean's hair, trying to pull Dean closer to him while simultaneously angling his head to deepen the kiss further. He gives a quiet whine when Dean pulls away.

Cas's cheeks are flushed pink, and Dean can't help feeling smug over it. He focuses in on Castiel's eyes, pupils dilating while the rings of blue shine brightly in the errant rays of morning sun.

Cas smiles dazedly at him. "Good morning."

Dean grins back. "Morning."

Cas lifts his hips slightly, making a point to brush his morning wood against Dean's hip. A pleasant shudder runs down Dean's spine in response.

"You're incorrigible, you know that?" he asks in amusement, nuzzling his nose against Castiel's.

Cas presses a chaste kiss against Dean's mouth before pulling back and saying, "Are you complaining?"

Dean kisses Cas again, lingering a little longer. "Never."

Dean trails kisses across Castiel's cheek, down his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. Every soft press of his lips is worshipful, silently swearing fealty to feelings he's never voiced aloud for the man. When Dean swirls his tongue around a nipple, Cas hitches a quiet breath, arching and squeezing the hand still in his grasp.

Dean kisses back up the trail he just made, ending at Cas's lips and saying, "God, you're beautiful. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Cas is giving him a dreamy look, smiling contently. "No. I can't say that they have."

"Only me?" Dean ask.

Cas gives a small nod. "Only you."

"Good." And then Dean is kissing him again, kissing him like a he's a man dying of thirst in the desert and Cas is an oasis.

Dean slides his free hand down between them, gripping both of their cocks and stroking long and slow. Cas makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a moan, arching further into Dean and twisting his fingers tightly in the short hairs on the back of Dean's head.

Dean is startled when Cas presses something against his chest, and is surprised to find a bottle of lube in his boyfriend's hand. He glances to the bedside table and finds it gone from where they had the foresight to leave it last night. He looks back to Cas, whose eyes are boring into him, their intensity making his heart skip a few beats. Then he cracks a smile and chuckles.

"We've got all weekend, man, what's the rush?"

Cas scowls at him, though it's more of a pout than anything with a real bite to it. "I'm horny and my boyfriend is on top of me, that's the rush."

That rips a full laugh from Dean, one that shakes his whole body as he rests his forehead on Cas's shoulder.

Cas pokes him petulantly in the side with the hand still holding the lube. "Hey, are you making fun of me?"

Dean shakes his head and then lifts it to place a kiss on the tip of Castiel's nose.

In that moment, as he's watching Castiel and they're under the covers on the bed in a romantic little B&amp;B, Dean almost says it-almost says the thing that neither of them have dared utter in over a year. Instead, he just says, "Of course not," before giving a pointed stroke and twist to Castiel's cock, which has him bowing off the bed with a gasp, eyes rolling back in his head.

"This what you want, baby?" Dean asks, lips ghosting along the shell of Cas's ear.

Cas answers with a nod, the scruff of his cheek catching on Dean's own stubble and sending sparks across Dean's skin.

"Then help me out," Dean whispers.

Cas flips the lid of the bottle open with a swift _click_, pouring it onto Dean's hand and making a mess.

Dean gently strokes Cas's perineum with his index finger, evoking almost purr-like sounds. He circles Cas's hole with another finger, pushing against the entrance gently but never breaching it.

Cas about knocks the breathe out of him when he reaches down and takes Dean's dick in hand, stroking it quick and desperate.

"Damn it, Cas," Dean groans out, movements stuttering to a stop for the briefest of seconds before he slips his finger into Cas.

Cas gives a relieved sigh, melting further into the mattress, thumb roving over the slit and spreading precome across the head.

"Dean, please," Castiel gasps, head tipped back into the pillows as he watches Dean through half-lidded eyes. "Fuck me."

Dean seals his lips over Cas's, their tongues pressing hotly together, tangling and mapping out each other's mouths. Dean slides in a second finger, and Cas bows up, keening into the kiss.

"Anything you say, baby," Dean pants into Cas's mouth as he pulls away.

He crooks his fingers, rubbing over the bundle of nerves that has Cas crying out and gripping Dean's hand almost painfully. Dean does it again and swipes the fingers of his other hand reverentially against the smooth bit of skin where Cas's ring normally resides.

"Dean, now, please" Cas begs, breath coming out in short puffs against Dean's cheek.

Dean places a sloppy kiss to the corner of Cas's mouth. It's too wet and off center, but it catches Castiel's attention. He turns his head to fully capture Dean's lips, needy. Dean removes his fingers from Cas and pushes away the hand still holding his cock, though it has stopped moving. He positions himself at Castiel's entrance, pushing in slowly.

It's a tight fit, not enough prep, and it has Dean's head spinning. Cas obviously enjoys it though, as he hooks an ankle at Dean's back, urging him forward. Dean's arms almost give out, he's so overwhelmed by pleasure and heat.

When he's fully seated inside Cas, he pauses, catching the breath he didn't even realize he was holding as he takes in the perfect picture Castiel makes-dark hair standing starkly against the white pillow cases, color high in his cheeks, lips wet and full and kissed red. The only thing missing is those baby blues, which Cas has closed.

Dean squeezes Cas's hand. "Cas, baby, look at me."

Cas's eyes flutter open, staring up at Dean like he's just found God. Dean swallows around the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat.

He could stay like this forever, Dean thinks, hidden away from the world with Castiel Novak in his arms. He'd love to, in fact.

Cas lets out a low, frustrated whine, canting his hips enough to catch Dean's attention. "Dean, move."

Dean blinks owlishly, trying to return to the moment. "Right, sorry."

He fits his hand over Cas's hip, and Cas slots his hand over Dean's bicep. Dean draws out ever so slightly, then rocks slowly back into Cas. He sets a sedate pace, reveling in the drag of skin on skin and each noise Cas makes below him.

His orgasm builds slowly, and he feels the tell-tale tightening in his stomach long before it ever happens. He slides a hand down to Cas's neglected cock, stroking him as slowly as he fucks him, taking Cas apart piece by piece, so that when he finally does come, it's silently, mouth slacked open in a cry that never comes out. It's only a couple more thrusts before Dean is following after him, tumbling headlong into his orgasm, and then he's slouching into Cas, forehead resting in the dip of Cas's collar bone as they both catch their breath.

* * *

They contemplate ordering room service again and spending the day in bed, but, ultimately, they decide to head out on the town. After all, it isn't every day they get to walk around like they're a couple in public.

The town is small yet quaint. It's the kind of place Dean thinks he'd go crazy in, the kind where all the locals seem to know each other and make the tourists feel the same. However, Castiel seems to flourish here, and Dean is sure he could see the guy camping out in one of the cabins by the lake and philosophizing.

Despite the tininess of the town, they find enough to get into to keep them busy for the whole day, between stopping for meals and window shopping and going down to the waterfront to feed ducks. It's every date cliché someone could conceive, but it's the best damn day Dean remembers having in a long time. Every broad smile Cas makes gets pointed in Dean's direction, Dean's alone to soak up, and they hold hands almost the whole day. Cas never did remember to put his ring back on, and it just makes the fantasy all the more real.

They get back to the hotel after sundown, and Cas calls dibs on the shower. Dean contemplates joining him, but instead flops down on the bed when Cas insists they need to actually get clean, not any dirtier. Dean can't help but laugh at the cheeky smile Cas throws him over his shoulder as he says it.

It isn't ten minutes after the water starts running that Cas's phone starts vibrating on the bedside table. Dean spares it a glance, but doesn't bother it. Whoever it is can leave a voice mail. Except that as soon as the buzzing stops, it starts back up again. By the third time this happens, it's grating Dean's nerves enough that he considers answering if it rings a fourth time. However, after that call ends, Dean's phone is the next to go off.

His brow creases when he picks up and sees Lisa's name on the caller ID.

He swipes to accept the call and answers, "Hey, Lis, what's up?"

"Dean, where's Castiel?" Lisa sounds frantic on the other line.

Cas picks that exact moment to emerge from the bathroom, towel slung low across his hips, water still dripping from his hair and down his skin.

"He just got out of the shower, why?"

Cas tilts his head at Dean, who just shrugs in response.

"Dean, you guys need to come back. Meg is in the hospital."

* * *

The drive back home seems to take twice as long as the drive out to the resort despite the fact Dean is sure he's breaking enough traffic laws to land him in jail.

Tension stretches out between them as Cas doesn't say much, just wrings his hands in his lap, twisting his wedding band around his finger, as he stares out the window. Dean spends the ride rubbing soothing circles into Cas's thigh while trying not to stare with disdain at the ring.

_Now isn't the time to be petty and jealous_, he reminds himself, but it doesn't stop the unpleasant churning and clenching in his gut.

They don't know much. All Lisa had said was that Meg had started having contractions, and when Lisa took her to the hospital, the doctor had seemed concerned. Then there had been a flurry of activity, and Lisa had called them.

"She's going to be okay," Dean promises, even as the words feel like ash on his tongue, heavy and awkward. In all honesty, there's no way to know if she'll be okay, never mind the baby.

Cas nods mutely.

"I mean, come on, this is Meg," Dean tries again. "She's too much of a spitfire for anything to happen to." Still, he can't mention the baby.

Cas doesn't respond at all beyond gripping Dean's hand tightly.

When they arrive at the hospital, they sit in silence, listening to the hum of the idling car as Cas makes no move to leave. Dean reaches over to take one of Castiel's hands in his own, squeezing it gently in reassurance. Castiel doesn't respond, just continues staring out the window at the building that looms over them. The pit of Dean's stomach drops out.

This is a far cry from the intimacy of that morning, which feels like a whole lifetime ago (and it very well may be, but Dean tries not to go down that path, vehemently stamps out and feels sickened by the brief flicker of hope that it leaves blooming in his chest). No, something has changed, and it may be irreversible. Panic wells up in Dean, tightening his throat and making him stupid.

He uses his other hand to cup Cas's cheek and turn Cas to face him, capturing chapped, teeth-worried lips with his own. Dean kisses Cas with a desperation he's never felt before, but Cas is unmoving beneath him. When Dean pulls away, he can't do it completely, still gripping Cas's hand and face.

Cas is staring at him, eyes wide and lost and scared, and Dean feels like the scum of the earth for thinking only of himself when Cas is at risk of losing so much. It doesn't stop Dean from doing what comes next, though.

"I love you." He blurts it out, all the fear and desperation and disillusion from their past year together propelling it forward. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried, if he'd even wanted to, which he realizes now he doesn't. Selfish as it is, bad timing though it may be, he feels better for saying it.

Cas just continues staring at him, unmoving and expression unchanging. Dean bites his tongue to keep from saying anything else.

Finally, Cas extracts himself from Dean's grip, which quickly loosens once he realizes just how tightly he's been holding on. Castiel's motions are stilted, almost robotic in how devoid of feeling they are, as he exits the car without a word, closing the door behind him and walking into the hospital, to his wife's bedside.

* * *

Only two chapters left! (Unless something just really runs away from me). I'm hoping to get them out quicker then normal, and I'm placing an extra emphasis on this while putting my other fics on the backburner. However, between work, my own original story, and working on my DCBB, don't expect anything TOO quickly. But I'm trying!

As always, huge thanks to pharocomics for being an awesome beta!


	9. Chapter 9

_So fair warning, this chapter hurts. My beta yelled at me and threatened me, and I actually had to go seek out human interaction after writing it because it made me so blue. But I do promise that this fic will have a mostly happy ending!_

* * *

Lisa is already home when Dean gets there. She's sitting at the kitchen table, _their _kitchen table that Dean vividly remembers picking out one weekend several years ago when Lisa had drug him out to a flea market. For all his initial griping and protesting, Dean actually ended up having a good time that day. They'd spent the day eating cheap booth food, buying frivolous knick knacks, and falling in love with a dinged up old table. _"Just the piece our kitchen's been missing,"_ Lisa had said, and Dean couldn't have agreed more. They'd bought it for seventy-five bucks, and by the time Dean had finished buffing out the scuffs and re-varnishing it, it looked worth at least twice that. Dean finds himself staring at the surface of it, taking in every new nick and scratch they've made since then - the bare spot where Lisa spilled a bottle of nail polish remover, the four parallel holes where Ben had a temper tantrum at age six and stabbed his fork into the table, the warped spot from where Dean sits at dinner and has always refused to use a coaster - every last one is a reminder of this life that he lives and the small family he's helped craft.

"Castiel get to the hospital okay?" Lisa is looking up at him, heavy bags under her eyes, and where once Dean would have felt a swell of pride or love or adoration that this is the woman he married, now he just feels tired.

"Yeah," Dean says as he crosses to the cupboard. He fills it with water from the tap, the sound of the sink the only thing between them. When he shuts it off, he's made overwhelmingly aware of just how quiet the house is. He glances to the door that leads to the foyer. "Where's Ben?"

"He's at the Sanders'. They took him when I had to take Meg to the hospital."

"Ah," Dean says, nodding his head.

Dean turns to lean against the counter, and with the silence stretching out between them like this, Lisa staring into her cup and Dean drinking from his, a startling realization hits him. This is the life he's built, but it isn't the life he wants anymore. He's been cruising through it on autopilot for awhile now, and that isn't fair to Lisa. Perhaps it's never been fair to Lisa, but he'd still been convinced he wanted this life before. Now that he's sure he doesn't, leading Lisa on just seems cruel. There should be more guilt, but all he really feels is resolute in the decision he's making.

He throws back the rest of his water and places the glass on the counter, the _clink_ it makes echoing loud alongside the ticking clock in the foyer. It all feels muted next to the buzzing under Dean's skin, though.

"Lisa, we need to talk." He tries to say it kindly, wanting to hurt her as little as possible, as impossible as that may be.

However, he feels wrong-footed when, without look up from her mug, she softly says, "There's someone else, isn't there?"

He doesn't know what to say, and when she looks up at him he realizes she looks just as tired as he feels. She smiles wanly at him.

"It's Castiel, right?"

"Lisa, how -"

She scoffs and turns back to her mug. "I'm not blind, Dean, and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't act like I was."

It feels like there are hot coals settled in his stomach, and suddenly he feels like crying, begging, anything to make this better, even if he knows that will only make it worse in the long run.

"I think we should get a divorce, Dean," Lisa continues. "That would be best for both of us, right? It's what you were going to suggest?"

She looks back up at him, and Dean swallows down all the petty pleas that are on the tip of his tongue. "I'm so sorry, Lis. I never meant for something like this to happen."

"Yeah, well, it did. You can sleep on the couch tonight. In the morning, I'm going to go get Ben, and we're going to go stay with my parents for a little while. That should give you time to pack up your things and find somewhere else to stay."

Dean nods mutely. It's more than he deserves, that's for sure.

"Good," Lisa says, and she pushes away from their table, which is probably the last time Dean will ever be able to call it that. She silently brushes past him as she places her mug in the sink, and even though she's close enough for Dean to feel her body heat, the distance between them has never seemed greater. His fingers itch with the want to reach out for her, but he knows that isn't his place anymore. Without another word, she turns and heads upstairs to their bedroom. Only it isn't theirs anymore, is it?

Dean listens to her footsteps as she walks up the stairs and as she walks around the room. He listens to the creak of the bed as she crawls into it. Finally, when the house is silent but for the ticking clock in the foyer, he cries.

* * *

Dean doesn't move from the couch until well after noon. Even when he hears Lisa leaving, he can't bring himself to get up and say goodbye. There isn't much left to say after last night, after all. He wishes he could say bye to Ben though, which only opens up a whole new can of hurt that has him curling in on himself.

When he finally does get up, he's slow moving. He eats and he showers because he knows these are things he has to do, but the food has no flavor and the water pelting down on him only feels unpleasant.

When he goes back into the kitchen to clean up, he notices that Meg's car is back in the Novaks' driveway. It sets off butterflies in his stomach, ones that have knives and violent ideologies. He considers giving them time, but remembers that isn't something he has much of left here. He quickly grabs his coat from where he set it down last night, toes on his shoes, and goes out the door.

He rings the doorbell. He knocks. He shouts for Cas or Meg, one. There's no answer though. He tries the door, and it opens.

"Cas?" he calls in a hushed tone one more time, peering around the entryway before closing the door behind him and walking farther into the house. It's eerily quiet, and it raises Dean's hackles.

The lights are all off through the house, every room still and silent, and for a moment Dean thinks maybe the car had been there all along. He almost gives up when he notices the open doorway at the end of the hall – the nursery. He'd made a habit of avoiding it, but the knot in his stomach is pulling him towards it now. What he finds breaks his heart.

The nursery is decimated, furniture broken to pieces and strewn every which way. Blankets hang helter skelter from jagged edges of wood, while toys lay battered across the carpeted floor. In the center of the blast zone sits Cas, legs crossed and shoulders hunched, his back to the door.

Dean dares not step another foot into the room as he swallows around the sudden tightness in his throat. "Cas?" he rasps out.

At first, Dean thinks maybe Cas didn't hear him, as he doesn't even twitch. He's about to step forward and make another attempt when, voice empty of emotion, Cas says, "The baby didn't make it."

Dean's heart sinks down to his toes. "And Meg?" he whispers hesitantly, and to his great shame, he isn't quite sure he knows what he wants the answer to be.

"She's under observation at the hospital, but the doctors say she should be fine."

Relief floods through Dean, and even more relief at knowing he isn't quite as much of an awful person as he was starting to be concerned that he might be.

The room turns eerily quiet again, to the point that Dean is starting to feel like he's at the sight of a natural disaster. All he can do is watch the pull of fabric over Cas's shoulders, his heart hurting. He wants to cross the room and fall to Cas's side, gathering him up into his arms, both to give and receive comfort. When did this get so complicated? When did they hit the point of no return? The point where there was no choice but for their lives to fall apart? There's a chasm between them now, and Dean has no clue how to cross it.

"Dean?" Cas chokes out, pulling Dean from his own thoughts.

"Yeah, Cas?" he whispers. If there's anything Cas needs from him, he'll do it.

Cas falls silent again, and Dean wonders if maybe Cas forgot he was going to say anything at all. Finally, Cas exhales a weary-heavy sigh and says, "I don't – I don't think I can do this anymore."

Dean's heart stops, and when it starts back there's so much pain that he wishes it hadn't.

Castiel hugs his knees to his chest and rests his forehead on them. When he speak again, his voice is choked with emotion. "Meg needs me, Dean. My wife needs me." Was that a sob? Dean thinks it might be, but his world has tilted on its axis. He can't be sure of anything anymore.

Cas is definitely sobbing as he says, "Dean, I'm so sorry."

Dean doesn't know how he does it, but he convinces his legs to carry him out of that room, out of that house, and out of Cas's life all together. It isn't until he's firmly on the other side of his own door that Dean realizes he has nothing left. Lisa is gone, Cas is gone, and soon enough, he will be gone, as well.

* * *

Dean is packed up and gone before the end of the week. The Winchester-Braeden house goes up for sale the next month, and not two months later, the Novaks have new neighbors. They never even bother to introduce themselves.

* * *

Only one more chapter left! And once again, I promise this has a happy ending, so please don't jump ship just yet! It gets better, I swear!


	10. Chapter 10

It's well into the dredges of May, sun hanging high and hot in the sky, when Meg slides down into the chair beside Castiel at the kitchen table. She looks between Cas and the phone in his hand before settling her eyes on his face.

"You really think this is a phone call type of conversation?" she asks with a sympathetic smile.

Cas's hands tighten around the phone, voice strained as he says, "No."

Meg's smile widens slightly. "So then why are you trying to burn a hole through the thing with your eyes. Sam gave you his address, didn't he? Go see him!"

Cas's hands flex nervously around the phone. "What if he doesn't want to see me?" he asks quietly.

Meg gently places her hand on his forearm. "Then at least you know you tried." When he looks at her, there's so much understanding in her eyes that it makes his heart clench.

She removes her hand and leans back in the chair. "Besides, it doesn't look as pitiful if the poor woman going through the divorce is standing next to her soon to be ex-husband at the open house, so you need to find something outside of the house to do while the potential buyers are here."  
He can't help choking on a surprised laugh at that. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"It's why you married me!" she proclaims with a grin.

Castiel's grin falters into something sad, and he looks away from her. "I'm so sorry for how this all has turned out."

Her hand is back on him in a flash. "This isn't your fault," she insists. "Neither of us can do this anymore, right? Isn't that what we decided?"

He opens his mouth to argue, but she cuts him off. "_I_ can't do this anymore, Clarence. Looking at you, remembering, it hurts too much."

He lets the phone fall flat on the table and places his other hand over hers.

With a reassuring squeeze, he says, "I know."

Meg turns a watery smile on him. "So go on then, go to your manly love."

He smiles back. "I will, so long as your know you will always be my lady love."

Meg chuckles softly, shaking her head. "You're such a sap!" She stands and places a soft kiss to his temple. "Best of luck to you, Clarence."

Cas gives her hand one final squeeze before letting it slip from his grasp. "And to you, as well."

* * *

As he exits his car, Castiel can only hope the dark rain clouds aren't a foreshadowing to how this meeting will go. Heart hammering in his chest, he stares up at Dean's apartment. It sits on top of a bowling alley, and Cas has to go around the back of the building to reach the stairs that go up to it. Surprisingly, on the whole journey to the door, he never once thinks about turning around and chickening out.

He knocks on the door and can hear Dean yelling, "Hold on a minute!" His heart skips a beat when the door is finally pulled open.

Dean still looks as gorgeous as Cas remembers, even if he looks torn between shock and slamming the door in Cas's face.

"What do you want?" Dean demands.

"May I come in?" Castiel demurely asks.

Dean glances over his shoulder and into the apartment, and Castiel's heart sinks into his stomach. Does Dean have someone in there? Cas wouldn't blame him. Dean had every right to move on with his life.

Cas lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding when Dean turns back to him and says, "Sure." Even if Cas can't read his tone, it's a start.

Dean steps aside to let Cas by and then closes the door behind him. "Excuse the mess."

Cas takes in the place, and notes that even if it's clearly a bachelor pad, it isn't exactly what he would consider messy. It's more sparse than anything, a far cry from the cozy home Dean had with Lisa. Cas's chest hurts at the knowledge that he's the reason Dean doesn't have that anymore.

Dean walks past him and sprawls out across the threadbare couch. "So what do you need?"

Cas supposes he shouldn't have expected any more. He wrings his hands for a lack of anything else to do with them, taking note of the fact that his palms are sweaty. He wipes them on his pants and tries to make eye contact with Dean. He doesn't quite make it.

"First, I want to apologize."

Dean raises an eyebrow.

"The way things ended... I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean turns his head away to stare at a crack in the wall, dismissively saying, "Yeah, that's fine, Cas, you had a lot going on. That it?" As much as Dean is trying to cover it up, Cas can hear the emotion in his words and it makes his heart break.

"Meg and I split up," Cas offers quietly, unable to bring his eyes up from the ground.

"What!?" When Cas chances a glance up at him, Dean is starting at him in open amazement.

Castiel nods, a slow, solemn motion. "We could never get past the miscarriage. It was too painful to see each other and pretend at normalcy day in and day out. Also..." Cas does make eye contact with Dean now. "I never could get over you."

Dean is blinking at him, mouth opening and closing silently.

Castiel continues, "I was afraid to say it before, Dean, but I love you, too."

Dean is up off the couch and kissing Castiel so fast that it makes Cas's head spin. It's a desperate kiss, full of all the hurt and pining that's built up over months away, and it leaves Cas clutching Dean and panting against his mouth when they finally pull apart.

"I love you, Cas, shit, I love you so much," Dean whispers against Cas's lips, and Cas pulls him closer, needing to feel him, feel that this is real and happening, that Dean doesn't hate him and didn't send him away.

"Thank you for opening the door, Dean," Cas rasps.

"Hey." Dean takes Castiel's chin between his fingers and tilts Cas's face up until he looks at Dean. "I will _always_ open the door for you."


	11. Epilogue

Dean isn't sure what wakes him, but either way, he's awake. When he glances at the clock and notes the time – 4:30 AM – he buries his head in his pillow with a groan. Despite his early morning misery, he can't help smiling when he hears the soft snuffling beside him. He peeks one eye out to watch Cas nuzzling into his pillow, brow cutely pinched together in some sort of mid-sleep frustration. With a huff, Cas seems to get comfortable again and fall back into a calm slumber, face smoothed out. Dean presses a soft kiss to the fluff of bedhead beside him before slowly and quietly extracting himself from the blankets. If he's going to be up this early, coffee is in order.

He takes a short detour on the way to the kitchen, cracking open the door to their guest room to spy in. Ben is sleeping peacefully, sprawled out across the twin bed that they got for him to use until the nicer one is ready. He silently shuts the door back and pads down the plushly carpeted hallway until he reaches the linoleum. He winces when the first toe touches the cold floor.

He hop-jump-runs across the kitchen until he reaches the rug in front of the sink. He immediately sets about getting the coffee started, listening to the twittering of that obnoxious bird that lives outside the window and obviously believes far too much in the saying "the early bird gets the worm."

His smile feels primed to split his face, while his heart feels three sizes too big as he takes in the kitchen table, _their_ kitchen table – his and Cas's – that he picked out the wood for and Cas built. It sits in _their_ kitchen which is part of _their_ house, and it still gives Dean a thrill when he thinks on that even a little. He never thought he'd get this life, and he thanks his lucky stars every day that he did. Though if he's honest, he should probably be thanking Meg Novak (though he supposes he really should probably start calling her Meg Masters at some point, since she was so adamant about going back to her maiden name). After all, she's the one that brought him and Cas together time and time again. She's even the one who sat down with Lisa and helped to start building the bridge between her and Dean. Without that, he probably would have never seen Ben again, or at least not anytime quite as soon as he did. He won't thank Meg, though, at least not explicitly, because he knows she would just become insufferable.

"I smelled coffee," Castiel grumbles from the doorway, and Dean almost laughs at how cranky he looks. Cas Novak is by no means a morning person.

Dean is a such a wonderful boyfriend that he gives the first cup of coffee to Cas, who shuffles miserably over to him.

As Cas sips his coffee with such complete disregard for the temperature that it makes Dean cringe, he shoots Dean a dirty look over the edge of the mug.

"You're thinking too hard for so early in the morning," he accuses.

Dean chuckles and wraps his arm around Cas, pulling him in close and pressing a kiss to the mess of bedhead. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

Cas groans. "Too chipper for so early in the morning, too." It doesn't stop him from snuggling into Dean's side, though.

Dean loses track of how long they stand like that in the kitchen, but it's enough time that the sky is starting to lighten and Cas has absorbed enough caffeine to become pleasant.

"Want to wake Ben up to watch the sunrise?" Cas asks, face pressed against Dean's neck and wrapping both arms around him.

Dean pulls Cas closer, turning his face into Cas's hair while keeping an eye on the early morning light outside. "Nah, let him sleep. He's gonna want to stay up late tonight anyway, what with Sammy, Jess, and Emma coming in."

"Lisa's still coming tonight, right?" Cas asks, voice still just the right side of sleep-roughened.

"Yeah, so long as that's okay. She hasn't gotten to meet the baby yet."

He can feel Cas's smile against his skin. "Of course it's alright, Dean. She's family."

"Yeah," Dean responds, nuzzling into dark hair, "I guess she is."

A year and a half ago, Dean Winchester's life was in shambles. He was living in some shitty rat hole above a bowling alley after his wife kicked him out for cheating with a guy who was pretty much emotionally unavailable. Somehow, it turned back around, even better than it was before. Dean got the guy, he got shared custody of his step-son, he gets along with his ex-wife better than he ever could have expected, and he's weirdly good friend's with the ex-wife of his boyfriend. He has a cozy home that they're slowly filling up with pieces of himself. And tonight? Tonight he'll finally have the most family he's ever had under one roof, and the best part? Every last bit of it will be there.

* * *

_So you guys can thank the beta for this epilogue. She complained about the story not feeling complete, so I redid some stuff in the last chapter and then pumped this out._

_I want to thank everyone who has supported this fic, whether you reviewed, favorited, followed, and even just read silently. This somehow became my baby, and it wouldn't have happened without all of you. This started as a random one shot from a prompt, and while I had that niggling feeling that it could be more, I never would have done it without the insistence from you guys that I should. So thank you for giving me this fic, and I hope the ending was at least a little worth the wait._


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